


That Day

by Liena67



Series: From the end a new beginning [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adlock, F/M, Love, Passion, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 21:37:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14941829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liena67/pseuds/Liena67
Summary: This oneshot was originally written after the long story that follows, but is chronologically positioned first. It was born as an experiment, I wanted to try to write a purely erotic scene, trying not to be trivial but not even ending up in porn, after reading many fic with erotic scenes between our two beloved protagonists.It can be read without having read the previous stories in the series, although I still recommend reading them





	That Day

**Author's Note:**

> Following this oneshot, I then included some erotic scenes in some stories. Erotic scenes are the most difficult to write, especially with these two characters, both so strong. Maintaining the balance between the two is the real challenge.
> 
> For those who read it, have fun
> 
> The final of this oneshot is directly connected to the beginning of the next long story that I start translating tomorrow
> 
> Enjoy the reading

The large house at 44 Eaton Square is immersed in silence. Downstairs the lights are turned off as they are in almost every room upstairs. Only a light from the bathroom, next to the large master bedroom, just lights up the corridor.

Irene comes out of the shower feeling regenerated, after the long session with a client a bit difficult, but that in the end she has known, as always, charm and lead to be devoted and obedient.  
Being able to exercise total control over her clients, is a profession for her but also a mental gratification, a game in which she is a teacher and in which she enjoys seeing who pays her, believing they have a mere sexual pleasure and have control of the situation, instead find themselves enthralled and subjugated by her will, and without the actual sex ever being the consequence. In the end, each of them comes to pay to have the privilege of simply being at her feet. This is what she means by domination, a mental domination first and foremost, when she has achieved this, she goes to the physical one, to the game of discipline and punishments. But it is never sex and has nothing to do with mere sexual pleasure.

Irene now wraps her beautiful body in a short white cloth and looks at herself in the mirror, starting to melt the complicated and austere hairstyle. Some locks begin to fall on the sides of her face and at that moment her blue eyes meet the green ones of Sherlock, who is leaning on the doorframe looking at her. She remains for a few moments to look, through the mirror, the only person in the world who has ever managed not to make her feel the need to have total domination. The only man with whom she can play on all levels and in all roles and never one of them takes real control over the other, an even game, a continuous and exciting challenge.  
  
"You did it soon... was it such a simple case?" she asks with a slight smile.  
"For me definitely... Anderson and Donovan are still trying to understand my solution" he replies, continuing to look at her "do not do it... leave them like that" he then adds with a lower tone of voice approaching.  
"Where's Miki?" She asks him, still looking at him from the mirror with a peculiar smile, that smile that only addresses him.  
"At John’s house... he stays to sleep with them tonight," Sherlock replies with a slight smile now a step away from her.  
"We have the whole house for us, are you telling me?" She asks in a whisper when she sees him from the mirror bending over to kiss her neck.  
"He will not be back before tomorrow night," he replies, placing his hands on her hips as his lips begin to move along her shoulder.  
"Good guy," she murmurs, narrowing her eyes as she feels a series of chills crossing her back and her voice goes out in murmur of pleasure.

His lips begin to rise again from shoulder to neck, stopping behind her ear, just touching every sensitive point of her skin, while he presses against her body.

Irene sighs with pleasure, closing her eyes and savoring every sensation while holding hands at the edge of the shelf.  
She opens her eyes as soon as she feels his hands rise up the sides and open the cloth, which slowly slides at her feet leaving her naked against his body, and observes the exciting effect of seeing his hands go up along her stomach, until they caress her breasts and grasp the already turgid nipples between his long fingers.  
A deep and sensual moan escapes from her throat, which immediately reacts to Sherlock, who pushes even more against her, climbing up her chin with his lips. Irene just turns her face to meet his lips, while the naked body moves against his.  
A new shiver goes through her when she feels a hand of him slowly descend along her stomach and those violinist fingers begin to titillate and tease making her shiver even more. The kiss becomes more and more profound and passionate, the tongues chase each other, the lips bite while the hands of Sherlock continue that slow but firm caress on her breasts and her clit, until it makes her moan again.

Sherlock just now moves away from her and makes her turn back to kiss her.

Irene's hands, with slow but determined movements, slide the jacket from his shoulders, open the buttons of his shirt and with a caress from his shoulders to his arms, she removes it now, feeling the pleasure of her breasts pressing against his naked chest.

Sherlock sighs with pleasure and raises his hands making her sit on the edge of the shelf. He looks at her with tarnished green eyes, that are reflected in the blue ones of her, with one hand he pushes her back slightly towards the mirror and begins with the lips again to go down her neck, between the breasts until he catches the nipples between his lips that tightens just between the teeth.  
  
Irene lets herself go to a deeper moan, arching her back against him as her nails land on his shoulders.

Sherlock's lips come down still stopping on her navel and Irene's breathing becomes more and more heavy and when his lips go down even more to kiss and grasp her clit, the breath stops for a few moments before freeing a long and deep moan.  
  
"Oh my God" just manages to whisper, moving her hands to grab his hair and weave her fingers in his curls.

Sherlock loves to feel her react like this and her moans, the knowledge that only he manages to bring her to abandon herself like this, gives him an intimate feeling of pleasure and possession, that only she manages to unleash in him.

The tremors that pass through her body with every kiss, at every stroke of his tongue, have an immediate effect on him too. The scent of her skin and the pungent smell of her essence fill his nostrils, causing him continuous chills and the more he hears her moan the more the rhythm of his lips and his tongue increases. With one hand he holds her for the hip, while the other hand caresses her leg. He looks up to look at her without stop moving his lips and slowly enters her with a finger.  
  
At that moment Irene closes her eyes and arching her back, she tilts her head back, clasping her hands in his hair. She feels that tongue moving in a circle, his lips kissing and sucking, and his fingers now become two, moving and touching her most sensitive points. The movements of the fingers and lips are making her whole body tremble and every time she opens her eyes, his eyes look at her as if he were memorizing every expression and reaction.  
  
Irene holds herself firmly to his head, arching her body even more, and those lips finally make her go crazy. With a long and loud groan, she lets herself go screaming his name when trembling she reaches her climax.

Sherlock waits to feel the contractions of her body finish before he rises and ends up undressing.

Irene opens her eyes with still shortness of breath and grabs him by the neck holding him tight and when she feels him enter, she kisses him on those lips still wet of her own pleasure, while the moans of both are lost in their kisses and in the meeting of their tongues. She grabs him for hips with her own legs, closing him like a vice, and accompanies his every push to feel him more and more inside, as inside her own soul.  
Irene runs her hands and nails along his back, while his hands hold her by the hips.

Sherlock kisses and bites her shoulder, neck, throat and when the rhythm is about to rise, she suddenly and forcefully squeezes her nails on his hip.

Sherlock stops, this is the signal, their signal. He looks at her almost without breath, their lips brush against each other, he breathes deeply and regains control.  
  
"Bedroom... now" are the only words that Irene whispers.

Sherlock pulls away from her only to grab her waist and lift her up, while Irene holds her legs around his hips and her hands around his shoulders. With quick steps, he comes out of the bathroom, carrying her to the bedroom almost without stopping kissing her. Arriving at the edge of the bed he puts her down without detaching from her, but Irene pushes him until he is stretched on his back and find herself on him.

She raises her hands to melt her hair completely and Sherlock sighs just swallowing. Irene puts her hand on his chest and slowly sits down on him until she feels him back inside.

Sherlock opens his eyes, letting go to a groan, but he does not stop looking at her as she starts to ride him, with those slow and deep movements, increasing the rhythm from time to time and slowing him down again. This is a dance, and he loves to support her. With his hands he holds her for hips, but she is the one who guides his movements and every time she feels him almost at the peak, she squeezes her nails on his hip, stopping until she sees him regain control.  
And then she starts moving again, holding that steady hand on his chest, which provokes in him a series of inexplicable sensations.  
And again she stops him and then she resumes that dance, with the rhythm that increases more and more and his hands still on her whips that push her on him with ever greater force.  
And again she stops him.  
  
"Please... please Irene... I'm going crazy... I beg your mercy," he says in a whisper without a breath and his mouth dry.  
  
Irene looks at him and an amused smile with an even more excited look appears on her face.  
"Repeat" she whispers, biting her lip.  
  
Sherlock looks at her and smiles for a moment.  
"Please... I beg your mercy," he says, still swallowing.  
  
At those words Irene bends over him kissing him with passion and then detach and kiss his cheek until she arrives with her lips near his ear.  
"Fuck me Sherlock... now" she just whispers.

At those words Sherlock feels like a shock that crosses him and with a burst of kidneys, he reverses the position blocking her under him. He eagerly pushes as if he wants to sink into her, hiding his face in her neck and when the rhythm increases he feels her coming again, almost weeping his name in the moans. He feels her squeeze, her fingernails scratching his back, her body enveloping him, the muscles contracting and at that moment he too explodes, screaming her name until he collapses on her totally breathless and without force.  
  
They remain silent, exhausted, hugged for a long time, their lips brushing against each other to try and catch their breath. Sherlock moves just to not weigh her and let her breathe, staring at her eyes narrowed in his until they both close them and end up in a deep sleep.  


* * *

   
Three days later, Irene is in the bathroom and looks in the mirror. The hair is loose on the shoulders, wearing a dressing gown and has a blister in her hand. She looks at it for the tenth time and then looks at the calendar again, only now realizing that the date is not correct. With one hand she tears off the sheet indicating the day before and then arranges the calendar on the correct day. Then she looks back at the blister and still observes that extra pill, which now appears clear she forgot to take. She closes her eyes and sighs. Put the blister back in the drawer and close the drawer.  
  
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asks on the door.

Irene looks at him from the mirror like three days ago.  
"Yes, yes, all right. I just have to go to the pharmacy to take something," she replies with a slight smile and looking in those green eyes thinks that, yes, it's all right, because whatever happens or does not happen, whatever decision she will take, yes, when she mirrors in those green eyes, everything is always fine.


End file.
